


Cat and Mouse

by vanillafluffy



Category: The Trixie Belden Mysteries - Julie Campbell Tatham & Kathryn Kenny
Genre: Gen, Home Invasion, Phone Calls & Telephones, Prank Calls, Robbery, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27019993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: For the prompt "the call is coming from inside the house".
Comments: 8
Kudos: 5
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2020





	Cat and Mouse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brumeier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/gifts).



“It’s probably just some kid playing games,” Trixie says to reassure Honey. The annoying phone calls have been going on for almost an hour, and Honey is starting to freak out.

“We should go down the hill to your place,” Honey frets. “It’s too quiet with just us here.”

The Manor House is one of the grandest homes in Sleepyside. Usually, it’s bustling with the Wheeler family and their servants, but not tonight. Honey’s parents are in Manhattan at the theater, her brother Jim is on a hunting trip with Trixie’s brothers, Usually Miss Trask, the Wheeler’s majordomo, would be in residence, but she went to the hospital with the cook, who'd collapsed shortly after dinner.

The first time the phone rang, they’d been sure it was Miss Trask calling about Tessa’s condition. Instead, a gravelly voice said, “It’s time to turn on the lights and lock the door.”

Together, they went through the ground floor of the big house making sure all the doors and windows were secure and turning on lamps here and there. Their security system glows green; Miss Trask set it on her way out of the house. 

“There’s no harm in leaving the lights on,” Honey says hesitantly. “After all, Miss Trask shouldn’t have to worry about bumping into things in the dark.”

Afterward, they settle into Honey’s room to study for the next day’s History test. 

The phone on Honey’s bedside table rings. Again, the ominous caller advises them. “Dear, dear. It’s so dark down here….”

Trixie takes the phone from her friend’s hand and hangs it up. “What a creep. We turned on all the lights downstairs, they’re just messing with us. Wait here.”

Confidently, she strides down the hallway to the main stairs, then stops, frowning. The bottom third of the staircase is in darkness--and it shouldn’t be. All the downstairs lights were on, as of ten minutes ago. Could Miss Trask have returned? No, she would have come to Honey’s room first thing to check in on them. 

Hurrying back to Honey’s room, she picks up the phone and is relieved to hear a dial tone. Although math isn’t her strong suit, Trixie has one particular number memorized. “Sergeant Molinson? Boy, am I glad to hear your voice! I’m here at the Manor House with Honey Wheeler, and we’ve been having some annoying phone calls. And all the lights downstairs have gone out. We just turned them on a little while ago, but now there’s nothing…” Her voice trails off.

“I’ll check the exchange records,” her mentor says. “If one of your classmates thinks they’re being funny, they’re going to find out otherwise. Just sit tight.”

“We should call Reagan,” Honey suggests, glancing toward the distant light above the stables. “Maybe he can==”

Outside her room, the lights in the hallway go out. Trixie leaps to the door and slams it shut. There’s no lock, but she throws her weight into moving Honey’s dresser in front of it.

The phone rings again.

Honey just stares at it. Trixie is the one to lift the receiver.

“Hide, little mice,” the sinister voice croons. “Tonight the cat is hunting you.”

“Who are you?” Trixie demands. Laughter and a dial tone are the only answers. _Reagan. Call Reagan--_

The phone rings again, and Honey moans. Her eyes are wide with terror; she’s trembling and clutching one of the bed pillows.

“Hello?”

“Trixie,” It’s Sergeant Molinson again. “The call is coming from inside the house. Officers are in route. Where are you?”

“We’re barricaded in Honey’s room,” Trixie reports, trying to keep her voice steady. "It’s at the east end of the second floor.”

“Stay there. Don’t open the door for anyone but me. And don’t try to play hero.”

“I won’t!” Trixie promises fervently. This isn’t an interesting puzzle to solve, this is a neon sign flashing ‘Danger!’ in bright red letters. 

She puts her arms around Honey, who clings to her, not quite crying, but clearly distressed. “I’m scared, too,” she admits, stroking her friend’s long hair. “But I don’t think they’re going to try to kidnap us, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You can’t know that!” Honey stares up at her. 

“I think it’s a robbery,” Trixie announces. “We’re doing exactly what they want--we’re cooped up in here. That leaves the rest of the house wide open and ripe for picking. They probably grabbed things downstairs while they were turning the lights out.

“When they were ready to ransack your folks room, all they had to do was turn off the hall light near the head of the stairs. They knew we weren’t going to come out to confront them--those phone calls were designed to scare us--”

“It worked!” Honey said bitterly. “I know we’ve gotten into some tight spots, but I never thought it would happen in my own house!” Her lips tremble. “And on a school night!”

Trixie can’t help chuckling. “You have to admit, it’s a lot more interesting that the Teapot Dome scandal!”

“Right now, studying for a boring History test sounds wonderful,” Honey sighs.

Any mystery is going to take precedence for Trixie. They’re safe enough in here, she reckons, because they aren’t the real target. Honey’s parents have lots of valuable things that are small enough to be portable. (She personally is glad she doesn’t have to dust them all.) She bites her lip. Memory of the security light glowing ‘all clear’ disturbs her…she doesn’t want to point it out to Honey, but that almost proves that their caller has been in the house all along….

“Look!” Honey points toward the window. “Flashing lights! The police are here!”

A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door, and a familiar voice calls, “Trixie? Are you in there?”

“Let me move the dresser!” she calls, springing up from the bed. “We’re here, we’re okay!”

“We caught a man fleeing across your property,” Molinson says to Honey once they’re face-to-face. We can’t prove that he was inside, and he doesn’t seem to have anything suspicious on him.”

“Check your parents room,” Trixie suggests. “I’m sure that’s why they scared us in here, so they could ransack the master suite.”

With the sergeant accompanying them, the girls venture to the other end of the second floor where Honey’s parents have their rooms.

Drawers have been yanked out of the dressers, clothes pulled from the closet and heaped on the floor. “Probably looking for a safe,” Molinson remarks. “But that doesn’t mean they left empty-handed. The trouble is, we didn’t catch our perp with anything incriminating.”

“Who was he?” Trixie wants to know.

“Garrett Lewis, He’s twenty-five, local, works for Wagner Electronics.”

“They just delivered out new freezer!” Honey gasps. 

“There were two of them,” Trixie recalls. “One was tall and skinny with dark hair. He had a tattoo on his left forearm, I didn't get a good look at it, I think it was supposed to be a feather, or a leaf. The other guy was shorter, about Mart’s height. Maybe five-foot-eight?” Trixie thinks back to the men they’d seen by the delivery truck. “His hair was dull brown and he had a lot of freckles. And big ears that stuck way out!”

Honey nods. There are tears of distress in her eyes at the ruins of the master suite. “But how did they get around the security system? It was on when Trixie and I turned on the lights!”

“Check the basement!” Trixie says with a flash of inspiration. “They took the freezer down to the utility room, maybe they figured out a way to get in down there!”

“That window over the dryer isn’t hooked up to the system,” Molinson points out when they’ve traipsed down to the cellar. "Probably overlooked when the system was installed--but someone skinny enough could squeeze in. I’d get that fixed, pronto. And look--there's your fuse box--it looks like they tripped all the switches of the ground floor."

"They would have noticed it when they were installing the freeze...."Trixie muses, lifting the lid of the big chest freezer and examining the contents.

“What are you doing?” Honey is bewildered. "This is no time for ice cream!"

Trixie straightens up with a foil-wrapped package in her hand. “There are a bunch of packages in there,” she points out. “Cook wouldn’t have had time to make all this between the time it was delivered and the time she collapsed. I think the thief or thieves stashed their loot in here--that’s why your guy didn’t have anything on him. He or they were planning to come back for it when the heat was off.” She picks up one rectangular object and tears back the foil.

“That’s one of Daddy’s first editions!” Honey gasps, reaching into the chest for another parcel.

“That’s enough,” the sergeant cautions her. “This is now part of the crime scene. Hopefully, we can find enough trace evidence to connect it to our suspect. Good job, ladies. You really kept your heads.”

Now that the emergency is over, Trixie feels shaky. “I think we’d better go to Crabapple Farms for the rest of the evening,” she says. “Could you give us a ride, please, Sergeant?”

“Of course. I want to let your folks know how much good sense you showed. Come along, ladies. The excitement is over for the evening.”

They’re crossing the lawn to Sergeant Molinson’s car is parked when another vehicle turns into the Wheeler’s driveway. 

“That’s Miss Trask!” Honey breathes a sigh of relief.

“What in the world is going on?” the older woman asks as she gets out of the sedan. She scans the patrol cars and Sergeant Molinson, then her gaze settles on the girls.

“There was a break-in,” Honey explains. “Mother and Daddy are going to be so upset, their bedroom has been torn apart--the library too, I think--”

“Are you girls okay? That’s the most important thing.” Miss Trask speaks with feeling. “Everything else is insured.”

“How is Tessa?” Trixie asks, since there’s no sign of the cook. “Is she going to be okay?”

“They had to run a lot of tests, because she wasn’t conscious and she’d struck her head when she fell. That what took so long.” The factotum shakes her head. “The doctors were concerned about her unresponsiveness until they got the results of the blood tests. Apparently, her tea was spiked with a strong sedative.”

“That’s awful!” Honey cries out.

“Pretty slick,” Trixie says thoughtfully. “When Miss Trask took her to the ER, they got two people out of the house. If we’d gone to Crabapple Farms to study, they would’ve had the Manor House all to themselves.”

“But you didn’t,” Miss Trask reminds her. “You thought it would be quieter here.”

Trixie and Honey look at each other and burst out laughing. “Oh, it was very quiet,” Trixie says with a grin. “If you don’t count all those phone calls!”

...


End file.
